


Clearcall

by desmercia



Series: Clearcall Series [1]
Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Bella Swan Has a Sister, Childhood Friends, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Headaches & Migraines, Imprinting (Twilight), Imprinting Rework, POV Third Person, Sleepwalking, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-10-11 15:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17449943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desmercia/pseuds/desmercia
Summary: Madelaine Swan knew her sister's return to Forks would bring come with changes to her humble life, but she didn't expect her entire world to come crashing down.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist.
> 
> madelaine swan.
> 
> winter morning i, woodkid + nihls frahm ♦ sleep maps, set fire to flames ♦ human qualities, explosions in the sky ♦ she's your mother, olafur arnalds ♦ earth, sleeping at last ♦ re, nihls frahm + helios ♦ rites of spring reverb, set fire to flames ♦ we sleep but fail to dream, the daydream club
> 
> embry call.
> 
> you're so very far away, clem leek ♣ a change must come, the daydream club ♣ landing cliffs, explosions in the sky ♣ the journey, olafur arnalds ♣ wildfire, syml ♣ your guts are like mine, set fire to flames ♣ finding home - farewell, zack hemsey ♣ i'm sorry, sincerely, the daydream club ♣ they move on tracks of never-ending light, this will destroy you

Two children—one boy, one girl—stumbled between dew-slick trunks, with grass stains on their knees and grins on their faces.

The young boy threw his head back and howled to the canopy above. The girl fell to the ground, breathless and flushed. She drew a handful of plucked petals from her pocket and tossed them at the boy. The light yellow flecks caught in his long hair and fell onto his shoulders. He spluttered and flailed about as the petals fell beneath his shirt and tickled his skin.

"Quiet!" The little girl hissed, drunk on a child's imagination. "You'll wake the monsters!"

In the shallow forest, a stone's throw from the boy's cottage, neither child truly feared the slumbering monsters.

Her friend dropped to the forest floor, his long hair splayed messily across the dirt ground. The children stayed there, resting and chattering with the birds, for what felt like hours until the boy's mother called them inside, safe from the approaching darkness.

The children loped away, arms linked and heads bowed as the sound of their giggles drifted between the trees, caught by the wind.

 


	2. Homecoming

Forks was a small town smothered in petrichor—trees and mist, rain and cold. The forests were dense; centuries old trees reaching into the clouds, while roads wound swiftly between their trunks. Nature lurked on everyone's doorstep, and cold seeped into their bones.

With two hundred or so rainy days a year, it was difficult for Madelaine to not love the dreary weather. Her sanity depended on it, really. Direct sun was rare, and when it did appear, the warmth was fleeting. As far as Madelaine was concerned dense layers of clothing, hot cups of coffee, and careful driving were paramount to living in Forks.

Old-timey entertainment was a close runner-up. Forks had electricity, yes, and the internet, but outages were frequent and the connection was shoddy. Board games, cards, three die, and several thrifted books were tucked away into a crumpled box in the linen cupboard (with ' _For Imergincees'_  written in blue crayon by a grumpy Madelaine many years ago).

One of those ancient books was in Madelaine's hands now. It's spine rested against her legs. The pages were singed yellow and smelled of cigarettes, its soft cover torn in half. She wouldn't be keeping this one in her collection, no matter how enthralling the story was.

Madelaine sat outside on the front steps. The porch was sheltered, so only the tips of her shoes were spotted with rain. She tapped her toes without rhythm.

Perhaps Madelaine should have waited inside for her father to return—she  _did_ have homework to complete. But she could hardly focus on the equations. So instead she sat outside, wrapped up tight in a jacket and scarf, flipping pages aimlessly. She felt restless, like a puppy at the door, eager for company to come home.

It was a little bit pathetic. Truthfully, she didn't care; she had a damn good reason to be so anxious.

Madelaine's sister, Bella—two years older, three notches quieter—was coming home after years of staying with their mother, Renée. If the news of Bella's return had shocked Charlie, it had caused a typical teenage reaction in Madelaine—she floated halfway between furious and elated. It was a dizzying feeling.

She could hardly believe it. Bella had spent her last stay in Forks miserable and bitter, snapping at Charlie whenever she could. Madelaine hadn't understood it, still didn't, honestly. But after a quiet summer, Bella had left and simply not come back. Charlie had taken it hard, but put on a brave face for his remaining daughter.

"Sometimes," He'd said, arms wrapped around Madelaine's shoulders, comforting her as she cried, "we can't be with the people we love."

Madelaine had mumbled, "That's stupid," into his chest and that had been that: Bella didn't come back for summer break, Madelaine stopped replying to Renée's letters and started keeping a tight hold on every letter from Bella. Seventy-eight letters stored in a shoe box under Madelaine's bed. Grouped by year with a rubber band around the waist. She replied to every single one.

In the weeks following Bella's departure, Charlie had spoken at great lengths with Renee over the phone. They'd come to an agreement that Bella's happiness and comfort mattered, and instead of Bella's six week visit over summer, Charlie and Bella would vacation in California for two weeks.

Madelaine had made sure she wasn't included in the holiday trip. Charlie had assured her that her mother wouldn't be there; just him and Bella. Still, Madelaine refused.  _It was a matter of principle,_  she thought.

Charlie had begrudgingly allowed his youngest daughter to stay in Forks, calling on his friends to take her into their home while he was away. Madelaine had spent her time in La Push, one year staying with Billy and his three children, the next year with Harry and Sue Clearwater and their two children. The last year Madelaine had convinced her father to allow her to stay at home, provided she called daily and didn't go crazy with her freedom. Allowing Charlie to let Madelaine have an unsupervised sleepover with Jacob, however... That was an uphill battle.

Three years had passed since the sisters had last seen each other. Bella was now seventeen, Madelaine would be fifteen soon, and they'd be together again.

A part of Madelaine (the little girl that missed her only sibling dearly) just  _knew_  that Bella would come bounding back into Forks and wrap Madelaine up in a warm hug. They'd jump back into their childhood adventures hand in hand.

The other (much more sensible and grounded) part of Madelaine thought that it would be a stranger knocking on her door.

So with all of her mixed emotions and conflicting thoughts, Madelaine waited.

Her father had left early in the cruiser, with his keys held firmly. He had spent a worrying amount of time pacing the length of their kitchen, mumbling to himself as he did. Madelaine had watched from behind the safety of her cereal bowl, as her foot tapped erratically beneath the table.

It was becoming evening now; passing cars had their lights on, and the porch lamp was getting brighter by the minute.

Theirs was a quiet street; they only had a few neighbours, and their properties were spaced apart. Some would say it was isolating to be surrounded by thick woods and empty land, but Madelaine took solace in the privacy it offered her.

Taking a break from her book (and she was really considering abandoning it all together), Madelaine peered at the newest addition to the Swan residence: a rust-red truck parked by the curb. Charlie didn't want to park it in the driveway yet: there was barely enough space for his cruiser, and he was sure the truck would turn the lawn into a muddy mess.

The truck had belonged to Billy Black, one of Charlie's oldest friends, and a man Madelaine considered an uncle. Billy was wheelchair bound and thus had no use for his truck. Madelaine knew that Jacob, Billy's only son, didn't want anything to do with the truck either. He'd also hinted that Billy had planned on gifting the truck to Madelaine for her sixteenth birthday. Madelaine was quietly pleased that she wouldn't be receiving the Chevy, but the thought was touching.

 _Dad should have been back half an hour ago,_  Madelaine thought, staring down at her book.  _Did he get lost? He doesn't go to the city often... No, he would have called._

Before her mind could say,  _Well, maybe his cellphone died,_  two beams of light drew up the road and her father's car came into sight. The cruiser pulled into the driveway, tyres rolling gently through puddles.

The car halted, lights died, engine stopped.

Madelaine could see her father sitting straight in the driver's seat. He was frowning slightly and casting glances towards his eldest daughter who was sat beside him, slumped and quiet.

It looked awkward. Painfully so. Madelaine didn't know who to pity: her father and his no doubt stilted attempts at humour, Bella and her dislike of the unfamiliar (even if she  _had_  lived her once, long ago), or Madelaine herself, who would be stuck between the two.

She sighed, lips twitching. She tucked the tip of her page into an neat dog-ear and closed it, setting it on the only dry patch of decking left. A few patters of rain began to fall on what remained of the the books plain cover.

She waved towards the car and Charlie smiled back, fingers waving from the steering wheel.

 _He looks like he wants to drive off again,_  Madelaine thought.

A moment or two passed, and Madelaine met Bella's eyes through the window. They both smiled, then looked away. Bella's eyes drifted towards the house. She looked lost.

Charlie finally stepped out of the car, stretching dramatically before closing the door and stepping around to grab Bella's luggage. This must have prompted Bella to snap out of her daze, because she abruptly left the car, almost tripping over the edge of the drive, where gravel met grass.

She steadied herself with a rueful smile and a shake of her head. Madelaine stepped forward, reaching out to help her sister.

"Easy, Bella." She said.

"Sorry," Bella mumbled. "Legs are dead."

They lapsed into silence. Madelaine had a feeling this would be a common occurrence in the Swan residence from now on. She took the moment to look at Bella.

She was older, but that was no surprise. Her dark hair was shorter, but still quite long. She was pale, but she had always been pale.

All in all, it was still  _Bella._  Just... different. One defining difference between  _this_  Bella and  _old_ Bella, was that  _this_  Bella was holding a potted cactus to her chest. Her hands were cupped around it protectively.

"Nice plant." Madelaine said.

"I wanted to bring a piece of Arizona with me." Bella explained, shrugging.

Madelaine nodded, "It's better than sand."

They both winced.

Charlie walked past with a bag in each hand. He nudged Madelaine's shoulder. "Hey, Mads, enjoy having the house to yourself?"

"Always, Dad."

Madelaine met Bella's eyes again. They both made to talk at the same time then stopped, laughed, and asked the other to continue.

"We should find a nice spot for Arizona." Madelaine said finally. Bella agreed and allowed her younger sister to lead the way into the Swan house.

The front door shut and a light was switched on. Around the house, darkness settled.


	3. Settling

Charlie vanished shortly after setting Bella's case beside her bed. Madelaine could hear her father downstairs opening and closing cupboards aimlessly, as if hoping food would magically appear. It seemed to be a shared hobby of the Swan's—well, maybe not Bella's.

Madelaine lingered by the doorway, toeing the threshold. Part of her wanted desperately to talk to her sister ( _How was Phoenix? Do you still want to be a ballerina when you grow up?  Are you looking forward to school? Is your favourite colour still purple?)_ , but as she watched Bella surveying the room with a daunted look, she decided to let the silence sit. For now, at least.

 _Maybe she's tired from the flight,_ Madelaine thought, stepping forward to move clothing from bag to dresser.  _And the drive with Dad can't have been great._

They worked in silence. Madelaine let Bella take the lead with arranging her things, and the other girl muttered to herself occasionally.

Bella's room was near identical to what it had been three years ago. The bed sheets were new (very silky, very purple) but the furniture remained in place. It was much less cluttered than Madelaine's room next door, and she was definitely jealous of Bella's window alcove. Her own windows were tall and slim, and stared out at their neighbours house, but not the woods across from their home.

But she was the youngest child, and so the first choice had gone to her sister. Although, Madelaine realised dumbly, Charlie probably would have let her move into this room after Bella's last Christmas in Forks.

 _Oh well,_  she thought, dropping Bella's pyjamas into the almost full top drawer.  _I had my chance._

The furniture in Bella's room was standard: twin bed, oak dresser with mirror, flat pack desk, chair, short bookshelf. The walls had a few posters and the odd framed picture. It was the mirror that caught Madelaine's eye.

The silver trimmed mirror perched atop the dresser had a strip of photos taped to the left side, as well as three glittery stickers (a brown dog, a red love heart, a twinkling snowflake). The photos were taken in Port Angeles, when Charlie had taken his girls (aged ten and eight) to the fair. Charlie didn't want to be in the photos, so only his arms could be seen in the corner.

The top photo was of Bella and Madelaine smiling prettily, practising their camera ready smiles. The next one had Madelaine scrunching up her face, while Bella grinned and poked at her own cheeks. The last photo showed Madelaine collapsed over her sister's lap with laughter, while Bella squinted at the camera, pouting for pretend.

A post-it note cut off the bottom of the photos and read  _Mad Bells_ in Charlie's handwriting. There was a trail  _x_ 's and  _o_ 's beneath them, written in Madelaine's shaky hand, and a smiley-face from Bella.

Madelaine had an identical strip of photos in her room tacked to a prick-board with her own stickers (a spotted puppy, a tall tree, a falling star). She cherished the memory: the girls looked young and happy. And with Charlie's plaid arms framing the photos, they could even look like a family. A  _proper_  family.

It didn't take long for Bella's things to find their new home. Besides her clothes, she had a little bag of bathroom necessities, a few CD's, one book, and Arizona (which Madelaine had set on the window sill, leaving the little plant in the prime location to glimpse the rare sun). Bella packed light.

Madelaine didn't know if that was normal or if Bella knew she wouldn't be staying for long.

Her last letter to Madelaine had been short, Bella had a lot of schoolwork due at the time, but she'd said quiet simply,  _Mom needs to be with Phil, I think it's best I stay with you and Dad for a while._

And who knew how long  _for a while_  would last?

❖

While Charlie's culinary skills were sub-par, Madelaine knew hers were worse. She had a tendency to wander around the house and forget about appliances. It must have taken great strength for Bella (who had grown up banging pots and throwing spices at every dish) to hold back a grimace as Charlie plated their dinner (too crispy grilled cheese, made with plastic-wrap slices of cheese and questionably old bread).

"Sorry, girls," Charlie huffed. "Guess I forgot to grab groceries."

Madelaine didn't mention that it was  _her_ who forgot to get food.

"It's okay," Bella said. She sounded genuinely grateful and her smile came easier than before.

Madelaine smiled too. "I wanted my grilled cheese burnt anyway."

They picked at their dinner in a wary silence. Madelaine could see her father pause between bites, turn to Bella then away again. She shook her head at him and pulled the crusts apart. The burnt edges didn't faze her much, although Bella set hers aside neatly.

When she finished, Bella was quick to gather their dishes and set to washing them. Madelaine grabbed their father a drink and then start drying plates.

Standing should to shoulder with her, Madelaine noticed Bella had grown taller than her. If she were twelve again, she would have sulked and complained to her father.

(" _Bella is older, which means I get to be taller."_  The younger Madelaine would have grumbled, red faced.  _"She gets_ everything _!"_ )

"I'll go shopping tomorrow." Bella said suddenly.

Charlie hummed, "You don't have to, Bells. I'll go after my shift."

"Or I'll go," Madelaine jumped in.

Bella shook her head. "Really, I don't mind." She paused. "I wouldn't mind seeing the town again. I've almost forgotten what everything looks like."

"We have a pizza place now." Madelaine said. "They deliver, too."

Charlie tilted his head. "Should have gotten that for tonight." He dusted off his hands. "Well, if you really want to go shopping, I keep the money in a jar on the fridge. That'll cover everything for the next week or so."

Bella nodded. "I won't overspend."

"It's not you I'm worried about."

Madelaine scoffed and waved the towel at him.

❖

They all went their separate ways for the evening.

Charlie claimed the den. The TV was a quiet drone and the lights downstairs were dim. He'd be in his armchair until ten, at least. Then he'd be off to bed until six. He'd be out the door for work at seven, seven-thirty on a good day.

Upstairs, Madelaine was sprawled on her bed, old book in hand. She drifted between reading and staring into space.

Two knocks (the first one soft, the second more pronounced) and Madelaine looked up to see Bella. She took one look at Madelaine's room, then nodded.

"You redecorated."

She wasn't wrong.

One wall was covered in images torn from old magazines: there were runway models with intricate clothing, dozens of photos Madelaine had taken over the years, cutout titles constructing jumbled phrases, and a lot of paintings from the art magazines Madelaine had snagged from the last library sale. Pushed to the side was an almost bare prick-board: it held a copy of her school classes, the photo-booth strip, and a quick list of assignments she had yet to finish. Her desk was stacked with journals. Her schoolbag emptied onto the floor.

Madelaine's room was much smaller than Bella's, with a bed pressed into the corner of the room and laden with pillows. Her clothes were kept in a tall and narrow set of drawers, while everything else she owned was stuffed into an equally tall bookshelf. There wasn't much room to walk around, but at least Madelaine had a nice fluffy rug beneath her feet.

The room Bella remembered was littered with toys (two dolls and numerous animal figures) and Madelaine's drawings had been tacked onto every inch of wall. Now they were in an art bag laid under her bed.

"Suppose so." She shrugged. "The bed is the same."

"Right." Bella moved her foot absently. "It looks nice."

"Do you like purple?" Madelaine asked suddenly, looking at her own light blue bedspread.

Bella paused. She glanced over her shoulder, perhaps looking for Charlie. Her lips twisted and she shook her head quickly, almost guiltily.

"You know, when we next do laundry we can swap sheets."

"You don't have to—"

"Dad won't be offended. It's just a bedspread. And I like purple." Madelaine raised her eyes to the dark purple ceiling.

"Right. Of course." Bella smiled, wringing her hands together. "Well, I'm kind of tired..."

"Yeah, it's been a long day. Better rest up before tomorrow."

Bella grimaced. "Yeah. School."

They shared a quick goodbye and Bella closed the door behind her. Madelaine listened as her sister moved about next door. She could hear her speaking to herself in short bursts, but the words were too muffled to make sense.

Madelaine shook her head and sat up. She quickly pulled her hair back and tied it loosely with the black band from her left wrist.

 _Bed, then,_  She thought, shuffling off the bed.  _This is going to take some getting used to._


	4. Morning

Morning came slowly in Forks—light falling down hazily through the clouds, leaving the land muted and thick with fog. The Swan house was dark, save for a light in the kitchen, and Madelaine used it to make her way towards the shelves.

She grabbed a box in one hand and flicked on the radio with the other. It crackled, buzzed, and then a tinny voice came through. Madelaine sighed, of course Charlie had changed the station. With a few twists of a dial, soft music drifted through the house.

"Where's Charlie?"

Madelaine glanced back. She hadn't heard her sister approaching. She was standing in the doorway, sleeves tugged over her fingers. She looked tired: her brown hair was mused and tied back, and her eyes were narrowed sleepily.

"Gone to work. He had to start early today. Do you want breakfast?" Madelaine gestured at the bowls. "We've only got cereal and coffee though."

"That's perfect."

Madelaine waved her into the kitchen. Bella sat down carefully at the table, picking the spare chair Madelaine had snatched from Billy's garage when they'd picked up Bella's 'new' truck.

"...Can I call you Maddie?"

It's a strangely formal request, Madelaine thought, especially coming from her own sister. But it made sense, in a way. They were almost strangers now and Madelaine had always been pedantic about her name (the opposite of Bella, who insisted  _no one_ call her Isabella).

"Of course, Bella."

"Okay." Bella frowned at her cereal. "Sorry, I just... I know you liked being called Madelaine. Didn't know if that had changed."

"It's okay." Madelaine shrugged. "I prefer my full name, but family can call me Maddie."

Bella looked away, swallowing and digging into her food.

Madelaine glanced out of the window. It wasn't raining, but the ground was still slick from the night's heavy downpour. The weather would hold long enough for them to make it to school.

"Are you driving to school?"

Bella hesitated, then, "Yes."

Madelaine nodded, quickly munching. "Cool, just checking. Otherwise, the bus stops two houses up."

"I can drive you to school too." Bella said.

"Do you really want to show up to school with the kid sister?"

"I could use the backup."

"Alright, but if you change your mind, let me know. I don't mind at all." Madelaine emphasised it with a stare. She had no interest in becoming Bella's shadow.

"Deal."

❖

Madelaine wouldn't have a future in forecasting; as soon as she draped a scarf over her shoulders, the floodgates opened and rain came down in heavy waves. Her sister looked swamped by her thick parka and she hesitated on the porch. Her hands were stubbornly shoved into her pockets and she rocked on the balls of her feet.

"It's a bit too soon to start skipping class," Madelaine said lightly, stepping past. She took the stairs quickly, knowing the slippery spots to avoid, and hoped that Bella wouldn't take a tumble.

"Charlie would kill you if you skipped." Bella said. Her voice was almost drowned by the sound of rain.

Madelaine chose to ignore  _Charlie not Dad_ and waited by the door of the truck, fingers wrapped around the handle. She stood on her tiptoes to see over the cab. Raindrops splattered and jumped back up to hit her chin.

"That's only if he finds out."

Bella's face became aghast.

Inside the truck, it was bitter and dry. It smelled faintly of peppermint, which was lovely to Madelaine's chilled nose, and tobacco. Madelaine knew the truck was loud—she'd been there when her father had driven it home with Harry Clearwater—but with the rain hammering down, it was maddening.

"You don't actually skip class, do you?"

Madelaine tipped her head back, basking in warmth as the truck's heater kicked in. "Not often. Mostly Economics. Mr. Vern and I do  _not_  get along."

Bella paused. "Do you ever skip gym?"

Madelaine shook her head. "Coach Clapp is ruthless. He'll search the whole school if he had to."

Bella sighed, staring ahead.  _There goes that plan,_ she must have been thinking.

The radio was a blessing, giving Madelaine something else to focus on as Bella drove. She didn't need directions, most things in Forks were either on the highway or the next street over.

❖

Forks High School was as unmemorable as most small town schools were. Simple buildings made of red brick with pale yellow window frames. The school's billboard peeked over hedges, to look out onto the road, with the words  _Forks High School, Home of the Spartans_ on proud display _._ Madelaine noticed the graffiti from last Thursday had been washed off. She wondered if the culprit had been found, too.

 _Probably not,_  she thought.  _The school can barely afford new basketballs, let alone working security cameras._

The rest of the school—car park, field, more brick buildings—came into view. It must have looked so small placed next to the memory of Bella's old school. Madelaine had been surprised by how big Forks High had been, compared to the elementary and middle school next door. Bella took a moment to take in her new school as she found a park near the office building.

"You'll have to park somewhere else," Madelaine said, clambering out of the truck.

"I know." Bella replied, walking quickly with her head low.

Madelaine followed her sister up a short path lined with hedges. Bella hesitated by the red doors, glancing at her sister before taking a deep breath. Madelaine tried to smile encouragingly.

The office was small, brightly lit, and toasty-warm. Madelaine sighed as the warm air caressed her cold nose. The room always welcoming in a cluttered way; notices were hung on the wall and plants were scattered about in plastic pots. The carpet was spotted and orange, and the three desks that divided the room were bright white and clean. Only one person was sitting at a desk. Madelaine recognised her by her hair.

"Good morning, Mrs. Cope." Madelaine called. She stayed by the door, waving from afar.

The secretary—a portly woman with short-cropped and curly red hair, and thick-framed glasses—turned to the girls, a warm smile appearing on her face.

"Good morning, Madelaine!" Mrs. Cope was always chipper, especially on Monday. It was baffling. The woman turned to Bella, "Can I help you?"

"I'm Isabella Swan," She said.

Mrs. Cope's smile grew and she waved her short finger at the girls. "Yes, yes, I can see the resemblance." She rummaged through her files while continuing, "I have your schedule right here and a map of the school. Of course, I'm sure your sister will be happy to show you around."

Madelaine nodded, even though no one was looking at her.

Mrs. Cope placed several sheets of paper on the desk. She started flicking through them, showing Bella her classes, and with a bright pink highlighter, she drew out the best paths to each class. Madelaine distracted herself by looking at the latest notices on the wall. They'd been hung up crookedly and she resisted the urge to correct them.

"Well, dear, I hope you enjoy Forks. It's great to have another Swan in our midst!" Mrs. Cope beamed, then looked at Madelaine, "Now,  _you_ , be a good sister and make sure Bella finds her way around, yes?"

"Of course, Mrs. Cope." Madelaine smiled.

Madelaine caught Bella's eye as they left the office. "Want me to stick around?" She asked.

Bella shook her head, holding her new assortment of papers like a prize. "I'll be fine. I've got a  _map_ now."

"Alright. But if you need me, I'll be in that block until lunch."

She pointed to another building, which to Bella, looked identical to all the  _other_  buildings.

Bella nodded, "That one. Got it. I'll see you later."

"Good luck!" Madelaine called out to her sister as she walked down the path. Her sister waved a hand over her shoulder and disappeared.


	5. Mundane

Madelaine's school-life was as boring as any other student: she went to class, she avoided seniors, she studied during her lunch break, she did the bare minimum in gym.

Truthfully, Madelaine didn't have many friends at Forks High School. There was Anna in Gym, Gracie in English, and Matt in Maths. Madelaine would sit by them in class, and they'd help each other with their work, and say hello while passing each other in the hall, but that was the extent of their interactions.

It didn't bother her; she liked her space. Though she knew Charlie worried sometimes. He'd ask about Madelaine's day and a frown would form at her bland reply. Perhaps that was why he was so happy about Bella's return. In his eyes, Madelaine would finally have a friend in Forks.

Madelaine  _had_  friends—Jacob, Quil, Embry—but they went to school in La Push, a twenty minute drive west of Forks. She took the bus out to La Push every other weekend, and she often talked to Jacob over the phone but most kids, teens especially, had friends by their side during class.

When Madelaine left Bella to find a new parking space, she made a beeline for her first class, English. She hovered by the door, fiddling with the hairband around her wrist and watched the other students mingling in the hallway.

Gracie found her shortly after.

"Hello," She said softly.

Gracie was shy. She blushed furiously and avoided eye contact at all times. Madelaine thought she was sweet. The girl was wearing a dark red raincoat that was so long it reached her knees. Her fringe was darkened by water and her mascara was already smudged.

"Hi, Gracie." Madelaine said. She moved over, allowing Gracie to lean against the wall beside her. They stood side by side; Gracie staring at the ground, Madelaine looking out.

"I think I saw your sister." Gracie liked to talk in short bursts.

"By the office?" Madelaine nodded. "It's Bella's first day."

"She seemed lost."

"She'll be fine. Her old school had thousands of students."

Gracie's mouth popped open. "Oh dear. That's a lot."

Madelaine agreed. Forks High School had three hundred and fifty-eight students; there were sixty-four students in her freshman class and even that felt like too many faces to remember.

The bell sounded; shrill and sudden. It rang three times.

Mr. Penn liked few things: keeping his classroom locked, coffee, and being consistently late. Madelaine's classmates gathered by the doorway, murmuring in tired tones.

The stout man arrived, with sullen cheeks dappled by days old stubble and a cooling  mug in hand. He fumbled with his lanyard of keys before huffing and passing them over to Madelaine, who nimbly found the blue-tipped key and unlocked the door.

Mr. Penn nodded his thanks and while his students meandered to their regular seats—Madelaine and Gracie taking the front pew—the first class of the day began.

❖

English, Madelaine's favourite class, was swiftly followed by her least favourite.

The ninth grade teacher, Ms. Jones, was a nice enough woman but her overtly friendly nature was off-putting and the subject she taught was mindbogglingly dull.

Maths was Madelaine's smallest class and the quietest. She sat one chair apart from Matt. He was a loud boy with a messy head of hair and a dopey grin. Ms. Jones forced him to sit in the front row in an attempt to keep Matt focused. It didn't work. He spent most of the lesson doodling in the margins of his book or leaning over to ask Madelaine for a spare pencil. She didn't keep spares and she could clearly see the short pencil in his left hand. He was funny, though, and unlike the other boys in her classes, his jokes weren't mean spirited.

Matt was an unsurprising fifteen minutes late to Maths. Ms. Jones paused her explanations to turn on the boy, hands against her hips.

"What time do you call this?"

"Nine twenty-five." He replied, almost yawning.

Madelaine ducked her head, letting her hair hide the smile on her face.

Matt shrugged his bag off and slunk low in his chair. He shook his hair from his face like a dog shaking water from its fur. He rummaged around in his bag for a moment, seemingly unaware of everyone staring at the back of his head.

"Sorry for being late, Ms. Jones," Matt chirped as he sat up with a twisted piece of paper in his hands. "Coach Clapp kept me back for a bit. He wrote me a note though."

Ms. Jones took the paper with a sniff. "Don't let this happen again, Mathew."

He nodded swiftly, then whispered to Madelaine, "Hey, Swan, did you do last week's homework?"

❖

Madelaine didn't think she was a great student, but her peers might disagree. She whizzed through English, greatly enjoying the chance to read and reflect on a good author's work, and even though Maths was unpleasant, her grades didn't slip. Science was easy enough, Gym only required participation, and Computer Science was slow work but fun. Madelaine suffered quietly through French and Economics. Music was a breath of fresh air.

Since Forks High School was so small, the students shared the same lunch break. The cafeteria was big enough for everyone to grab a seat and part of the field was sheltered, while the library and a few select classrooms remained open for student's to study away from the cafeteria's buzzing atmosphere.

She couldn't see Bella, so Madelaine made her way quickly to her usual table. She carried her books close to her chest, thinking over the next weeks assignments: an essay for English, a sheet of algebra for Maths, and no homework yet for her other classes.

Just like in class, most people had their chosen seats in the cafeteria, and Madelaine was no different. Her spot was a smaller table, wide enough to sit four, almost in the corner of the room. She had windows at her back, looking out over the flat grass verge with park benches where student's hung out on sunny days. No one sat at Madelaine's table and no one dared touch the next table, tucked into the furthest corner of the hall.

That table belonged to the Cullens. Madelaine had seen them often since the start of her freshman year, but they rarely spoke to other students. There was a suspiciously large space separating the Cullens table from the rest.

Madelaine dropped down onto her usual seat and scanned the crowd for her sister. She found her walking with another dark haired girl.  _Jessica Stanley,_  Madelaine thought, squinting. She watched them for a while; they joined a larger group of students that she couldn't quite see.

She was pleased Bella had made some friends, even if she did look uncomfortable with all the attention. Madelaine had been surprised at how may people acknowledged  _her_  about Bella's appearance in Forks.

Bella's attention turned briefly to Madelaine, who waved and nodded towards Bella's companions. Her sister appeared to laugh and shake her head.

Shortly after, Madelaine's neighbours arrived. First came two seniors, Rosalie and Emmett. Wherever they went, heads turned. They were a beautiful couple but Rosalie's haughty glares kept people away. Emmett seemed much more pleasant than his counterpart.

Similarly, Alice and Jasper followed. Alice was tiny, twirling around Jasper with joyful ease. Jasper, tall and straight-backed, peered down his nose at the girl with bewildered grin. It was a sweet change from Jasper's usual look of discomfort.

Lastly, Edward strode through the door, letting it fall shut behind him. He was tall, but shorter than his brothers. He was alone, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. His eyes swept over the cafeteria, hoping from face to face seemingly without finding interest. He paused for a moment, then a smile toyed the corner of his mouth.

Madelaine followed, finding Bella and Jessica staring at Edward. Jessica had her chin resting against her hand. She looked wistful. To be fair, most girls would be dazed by Edward's attention; he was terribly handsome.

Madelaine thought the Cullen family was a confusing jumble; only Jasper and Rosalie were blood-relatives, their surname was Hale, the other Cullen's were merely adoptive siblings. The young Dr. Cullen and his wife—whose name Madelaine couldn't recall—had taken them in years ago. Madelaine had overheard many students whispering at how strange their family setup was, especially with Rosalie and Emmett, Jasper and Alice.

The Cullens had moved to Forks two years ago, while Madelaine had still been at middle school. She'd remembered being with her father and meeting Dr. Cullen at the hospital. He was a handsome blond man with an pretty smile and captivating voice. Madelaine, being thirteen, had kept herself behind Charlie but smiled politely when the doctor addressed her. She'd even accepted a handshake. Dr. Cullen's hands had been cold to the touch. Most things in the hospital were cold, Madelaine reasoned.

The Cullens took their seats. They didn't talk often, lost in their own thoughts. Madelaine could see Alice leaning against Jasper's side, murmuring to him.

Madelaine ducked her head, sighing, as she started to scan her English notes. She could feel a headache brewing behind her eyes.

Beside her, the Cullens laughed. It was a pleasant sound; Madelaine thought they all had lovely voices. Like wind-chimes and birdsong.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, wincing as her head throbbed, and made note to pack painkillers with tomorrow's lunch.

❖

After her last class, Madelaine hurried to the office. She wanted to find Bella there, not in the bustling car park. The rain had died down, harsh wind taking its place. Her steps were quiet in the near empty walkway.

As she turned the corner, her bag slipped from her shoulder. She looked down to fix it and collided with something cold and hard.

Madelaine tripped back a step. Her bag fell to the ground with a thud.

"Sorry! Sorry, I got distracted—"

Edward Cullen was standing before her. He was frozen in place, face ashen. The purple darkness around his eyes seemed more pronounced.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." He said through gritted teeth. He wasn't breathing. Something in his face twitched and he brought his hand to cover his mouth. His eyes—dark and burning—narrowed as he stared at her.

"Headache?"

He nodded, lips pressing tightly together. His hair was messier than usual, pulled at odd angles, as thought he'd been tugging at it harshly.

"You should go home. Get some rest."

"Good idea." His tone was strained. Before Madelaine could suggest a hearty bowl of homemade chicken soup, he was gone, walking swiftly down the hallway.

Madelaine blinked dumbly at his retreating back.

❖

When Madelaine found her, Bella looked upset. She was frowning and her eyes kept straying.

"Looking for someone?" Madelaine asked, falling into step with her sister.

"Edward Cullen." Bella replied shortly.

"I saw him. He has a headache. Looks pretty bad."

"Oh." Bella fidgeted, then, "Do I smell bad or something?"

Madelaine paused. "No. Strawberry, right?"

Bella nodded, still frowning.

❖

Bella was distracted on the drive home. Her gaze was fixed on the road, and occasionally she'd blink quickly, as if dispelling tears. Madelaine kept a quiet eye on her sister, but she didn't speak. She didn't know how to comfort Bella anymore. If they were little again, Madelaine would have dragged Bella into a blanket fort and read stories together, imitating characters with silly voices.

Now when they made it home, Bella went up to her room and that was that.


	6. Days

It didn't take long for Bella's presence in the Swan house to become normal. Three days, in fact. Madelaine and Charlie were so quiet that Bella fit in comfortably with their individual routines. Bella was eager to take over grocery shopping, which the youngest Swan was happy to give up. Madelaine found it easy to get distracted and she often lost the shopping list Charlie scrawled down.

Bella's cooking was a blessing too. Madelaine watched, half awed, as her sister wrapped potatoes in foil and set them in the oven to bake. At least marinading steak was a familiar concept.

Charlie came home quarter past six. He called out a greeting as he toed off his boots and hung up his gun belt with the same meticulous care he'd taken when Madelaine was a just a sticky fingered child.

While they sat down to eat, Madelaine looked out the window as her father and Bella talked.

"—classes with a girl name Jessica. I sat with her friends at lunch," Bella said between small bites. "And there's this boy, Mike, who's really friendly. Everybody seems really nice."

Charlie nodded. "That must be Mike Newton. Nice kid—nice family. His dad owns the sporting goods just outside of town. Makes a good living off the backpackers who come through here."

"Do you know the Cullen family?" Bella asked hesitantly.

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. Dr. Cullen's a great man."

"They... the kids... are a little different." Bella swallowed. "They don't seem to fit in at school."

Madelaine wasn't surprised by Charlie's cross look but Bella was.

"People in this town," He muttered, shaking his head. "Dr. Cullen is a  _brilliant_  surgeon who could work just about anywhere in the world. And make ten times what he gets in Forks," Charlie continued, getting louder. "He's an asset to the community and all those kids are polite. I had my doubts when they first arrived; that many adopted teenagers are bound to have problems, but I haven't seen a damn thing. That's more than I can say for some of the kids whose family has been here for generations! Just because they're newcomers, people like to talk."

Bella glanced at Madelaine, who smiled and shrugged.

"They seemed nice enough to me. I just noticed that they keep to themselves. They're all very attractive," Bella spoke after some thought.

Charlie laughed and the tension melted. "You should meet the doctor. It's a good thing he's a happily married man. I think the nurse's must have a tough time concentrating around him."

They finished their meal and cleared the dishes. Madelaine went to Bella's side.

"You shouldn't listen to everything people say," She said, dipping a plate into hot water.

"I know."

"Especially Jessica." Madelaine smiled at Bella's frown. "Jessica has a crush on Edward."

"How do you know that?"

"She isn't subtle. He turned her down. She sulked for a week. The Cullens aren't bad people and they're not nearly as 'weird' as people like to say."

"Have you talked to them?"

She shrugged. "Alice talks to me sometimes."

Bella hummed.

"Edward too." Madelaine said, only to see Bella glance at her quickly. "He's a bit shy, but he helped me with a music assignment. Look, the Cullens are rich, beautiful, smart, and a little eccentric. Of course people are going to gossip. Small towns are notorious for rumours and envy, you know. Anyway," She dried her hands with a damp towel. "Their lives can't be perfect; they're all adopted... What happened to their real families?"

Bella didn't humour Madelaine with a response.

❖

As the days ticked by, Madelaine noticed Edward's absence at the Cullen's table. His siblings didn't seem bothered by it, so she assumed he was merely sick.

She kept her seat near the Cullen's table, despite Bella's offers for Madelaine to join her new group of friends. She cringed at the thought of enduring Jessica's babbling, so she declined and smiled politely at her sister's friends. They waved back. It was nice to be recognised without being smothered.

Bella seemed content with her new life. Although, Madelaine couldn't be sure because her sister kept conversation to a minimum. On Saturday, Bella asked Madelaine to come with her to the library. The youngest Swan jumped at the opportunity, rushing to her room to gather her almost overdue books.

Bella was astutely underwhelmed by the Forks library. Madelaine could see her scanning over the scant shelves with a disappointed sigh.

Madelaine happily returned her books and scoured for new material, flicking easily through battered spines and unknown authors. She enjoyed reading these old books; they were set in a time she would never experience, in towns and cities far away. She liked the idea of finding herself immersed in a world few others had heard of. She settled on a murder-mystery set in the 1920s and a slim book of poetry. She handed them over to the librarian along with her card.

Even with her new reads, Madelaine would still follow Bella to a bookstore outside Forks boundary. When she relayed that to her sister—perhaps with too much enthusiasm—Bella's smile was tight.

❖

On Monday, it snowed.

It was the first snowfall of the year, and at late January, it was long overdue. Forks High was abuzz with excitement. There were only two occasions when students voluntarily went outside for lunch: sun and snow. The former was a rare occurrence.

With that in mind, Madelaine walked carefully.

The field beside the cafeteria was busy; groups of people huddled together laughing and packing snow into flimsy balls. Madelaine kept a close eye on a few older boys standing near Mike Newton. Seniors had an infuriating habit of harassing freshman when it snowed.

The Cullens seemed to be in higher spirits today; the boys with delicate ice in their mussed hair shoved each other, while the girls stood aside, barely out of reach. It was rare to see them smiling so openly.

As Madelaine looked across Alice, the girl turned her head. Their eyes met.

Distracted by the Cullens and the neat little frown on Alice's forehead, Madelaine didn't see Mike take aim at her. She barely heard him shout  _Hey, Swan!_  before a snowball struck her. It hit her hard on the nose and exploded, sending icy chunks of snow flying across her face. 

She bit her tongue in surprise and closed her eyes. A chilling ache radiated through Madelaine's nose and cheeks. Ice stung her eyes and she dropped her armful of books into the snow.

"Are you alright?" A light voice asked.

Madelaine blinked. Her vision cleared and she could see the small frame of Alice Cullen. Her wide eyes—a brilliant honey-brown—were staring intently at Madelaine.

"I'm fine." She said eventually.

"That must have hurt." Alice's eyes dropped to Madelaine's nose. It was throbbing. Madelaine pressed her fingers against the skin, testing the pain.

"Kind of." Madelaine said, even as she tasted copper on her tongue. She knelt down to pick her books off the ground. Her folder was safely shut, but her latest rental book was covered in snow and scratched by dirt. She cursed, starting to scowl at the ground. "Damn."

When Madelaine looked up, Alice's little smile flickered and her eyes drifted over Madelaine's shoulder. She opened her mouth, then shook her head. The smile returned.

"Well, I just wanted to check you were okay. I'll see you 'round. Take care, Madelaine!" Alice called, waving as she hurried back to her family. Alice hooked her arms with Jasper's and yanked his stiff body away.

Madelaine wondered how someone so short could walk so quickly. She dusted snow off her knees and stood, arms full again.

The rest of the Cullens had vanished. The only proof of their existence was footsteps in the snow.

❖

"Hey, sorry." Mike said after jogging over to where Madelaine was frozen in place. Mike tried apologising with a timid smile. His hands were wet with melted snow and he rubbed it through his hair, setting it up in awkward spikes. "Didn't think it would hit you so hard."

"It's a ball of ice, how hard do you think it hits?" Madelaine said, frowning. She didn't want to snap but the borrowed book in her hand was sodden and Mike wouldn't be the one to pay for it, would he?

He fumbled, face flushing. "Right, that was dumb. But you're okay, yeah?"

"Just fine." Madelaine sniffed. "Excuse me."

Mike stepped to the side as the youngest Swan hurried away, her boots sinking quietly into the ground.

❖

Lunch moved fast but the cloud looming over Madelaine's head refused to budge.

She dabbed at the book with a neatly folded napkin but the snow had melted and the page corners were bubbled. She threw the wadded napkin down with a huff.

_Who just throws snowballs around like that?_  She thought bitterly then grumbled, "Teenage boys."

❖

Madelaine's cloud began to dissipate as she stepped over the threshold of the music room. The classroom was darker than most; four high-set windows, rich red walls complemented by the warm browns of the various instruments perched against the longest wall. Desks were paired on either side of a wide pathway, allowing Miss Ruzek to easily move between student and instrument.

Forks High had limited funding but Mr. Greene, much to the disappointment of Coach Clapp, had granted the Music department extra funding for the year. Miss Ruzek had kicked the year off with a blinding smile and clasped hands. "New instruments!" She'd declared to her mostly uninterested students.

Madelaine found her seat at the back of the room, her back inches away from the her favourite piano. She grabbed her notebook and pen, keeping an eye on her classmates as they trickled through the doorway.

Madelaine admired Miss Ruzek an awful lot; she was bright and fun without insincerity. She was talented too, a strong vocalist and confident with the instruments in her possession.

"Afternoon, Miss Swan." Her formal introductions were always teasing. Miss Ruzek places a leaflet on the edge of Madelaine's desk. "I'd like you to have a read of this. We'll discuss it before class is over."

Madelaine nodded, numb fingers reaching out as Miss Ruzek continued up the aisle, going from student to student. The noise simmered down and Madelaine turned the page.

❖

Her classmates were scattered around the room; writing, reading, playing, and chatting. Music was always a relaxed class, even more so when it was the last lesson of the day. Miss Ruzek dubbed those days a  _playday_. Madelaine would spend that hour playing piano.

When Miss Ruzek returned, Madelaine appeared quiet in thought.

"You want me to write my own music?"

Miss Ruzek nodded, taking the seat to Madelaine's left. "Yes, and I'd like you to perform at the Forks Gala."

The gala was a chance for the town to get together and enjoy free food and drink, while listening to singing and poetry, watching skits and dance. Madelaine liked going to the gala; she always dragged Charlie around the edge of the room, staring at all kinds of art. She'd never performed there, though.

"...I don't know how to write a song, and performing in—Do I have to  _sing_?"

"Teacher, remember?" Miss Ruzek pointed at herself, a manicured nail tapping against her rosy cheeks. "I can show you how to write music. I can teach you how to sing too, if you'd like. I think you'd have a beautiful voice." Miss Ruzek's smile was warm and she patted Madelaine's arm. Her enthusiasm was becoming unsettling to Madelaine's nervous eyes. "You're a talented girl, and I think this is a wonderful opportunity for you to stretch those creative wings, and fly!"

_Or fall flat on my face._ Madelaine felt her skin flush and she looked away. "I don't know..."

"You can say no." Miss Ruzek pulled the leaflet to her, flipped it onto the blank side and started writing. Her handwriting was graceless. Madelaine was already straining to read it.

"This is an independent assignment, so you'll have a lot of freedom. And the possibilities are endless. Play piano, sing, make a band; it's up to you. The only stipulation is that it's an original work. Now, to pass  _this_  class, you will be required to perform to a group larger than a hundred—" Madelaine gulped. "—and if you chose the Gala, I'll gladly excuse you from performing at the end of the year."

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course! I'll give you the weekend. Talk it over with your family."

❖

Music class had served as a distraction from Mike Newton but as she waited by Bella's truck, the annoyance came back; quick as a rubber band flick. The rain was misty and caught on the fabric of her coat in shining pebbles. She squashed each bead of water, watching it seep into the arm of her jacket, as Bella fumbled with her keys.

Inside it was dry and the heater soon warmed up. Bella only had a few moments to take down the hood of her jacket and fluff her hair before Madelaine started complaining about Mike and his unruly snowballs.

"—and now I have to go to the library and hand over a ruined book! Fourteen years and I haven't damaged a single book. No stains or dog-ears—and I dog-ear every book I own. I'll have to ask Dad for extra pocket money to cover the replacement cost." Madelaine scrunched up her face, already dreading the conversation with Quinton—the Forks librarian and computer-whizz. "What if they ban me?"

Bella snorted, warming her fingertips by the heater. "They're not going to ban their only regular customer—"

"But—"

"Have you ever had a late fee?"

Madelaine scoffed, "Of course not."

"—then you'll be fine."

Bella threw the truck into reverse and they jerked backwards, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla. She stomped on the break and Madelaine clutched a hand over hear racing heart while Bella took a deep breath.

Madelaine glanced at her sister, "Slower, maybe?"

Bella sighed and reversed again without hitting anyone.

As Bella's truck rolled by, Madelaine saw Edward leaning against his Volvo. He appeared to be laughing at them. Madelaine frowned at him while Bella stared ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, been a while! Hope you're doing well. The next chapter is almost done, it should be up soon. Now, to figure out where this thing is headed :)


	7. Detour

When Madelaine woke up to the soft tones of her alarm, her father was downstairs. The low roar of a bubbling coffee pot was amplified in the quiet morning. She stretched and yawned her way into the kitchen.

"Morning, Mads," Charlie said. "Up early?"

"Yeah," Madelaine slumped over in a chair. She pressed the heels of her palm against her eyes, willing the sleepiness to leave her body. "I was wondering if I could have a lift into town this morning?"

Charlie frowned over a steaming cup of coffee. He was already dressed in his uniform and had a plate of toast resting on the counter beside him.

"I need to go to the library before class."

"Homework?"

Madelaine sighed. "No, there was an accident at school and—"

"Accident?" Charlie asked, suddenly alert.

She raised a hand as if to say  _down boy_. "I'm fine, it was just a stray snowball. But I dropped my book and it's water damaged. I need to go in and talk to Quinton about paying for the replacement."

Charlie's expression softened. "Oh, sure. Need money?"

She shook her head, thinking of the bills she'd found tucked in the shoe box under her bed. "I've got some. Thanks, Dad."

He smiled warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling and pressed a kiss to the top of her head and walked back towards his room. "We'll leave in twenty minutes, leave a note for Bella."

Madelaine saluted mockingly and scribbled on a notepad:  _Morning, I've gone with Dad_ —  _going to pay my dues at the library. See you at school!_

She pushed it away, glancing up at the window. The sky was lighter than usual and the roads could be deceiving. She pulled the paper back and added:  _Road is extra icy today_ —  _stay safe._

Madelaine figured an ' _x_ ' or a ' _love you_ ' would be pushing it, so she signed off with a beady eyed smiley face. Satisfied, she tucked the note under the apple Bella would grab for her breakfast and ducked back upstairs to get ready.

❖

Outside the air was clear and the ground was lined with snow and deadly ice. Charlie took Madelaine's elbow in hand as they went down the steps.

"Put chains on the truck and cruiser earlier." Charlie said gruffly as they clambered into the cruiser. "Going to be busy today."

Madelaine murmured her agreement. Whenever the road was icy, the police department would become bustling with road incidents. La Push Rd. in particular was prone to accidents, there something about the swerving road and claustrophobic atmosphere of towering trees that beckoned danger.

The journey was short, as most drives in Forks were. Charlie drove with the confidence of a man who knew and respected the road—Madelaine could only hope to be half as collected as him. He pulled into the space nearest the library. The cruiser idled, it was silent compared to Bella's truck.

"Want me to come?"

"I'll be fine, thanks for the lift."

The footpath was just as icy as their driveway. Madelaine inched along. The ruined book was small enough to fit in the depths of her coat pocket.

Charlie didn't pull away until Madelaine's fist was knocking on the library door. She waved to him while she waited for Quinton.

❖

Quinton had grown up with Charlie. He had a full head of grey curling hair and a dash of freckles arching across his cheeks and nose. He was a kind man, always smiling and pottering about the library. He worked mostly alone with part-time help from Mary Morgan, an almost retired woman who walked with a striped cane and a perpetual scowl.

"Mornin', Miss Swan." Quinton called, voice loud in the quiet morning. "What brings you here so early?"

Madelaine fidgeted, smiling. "Nothing good, actually. I fell at school yesterday and a book I borrowed got water damaged. I wanted to come in to arrange a replacement."

Quinton dipped his head. He didn't look as offended as Madelaine had imagined. Then again, she had pictured steam billowing from his ears. "Do you have the book?"

Madelaine held it out. The librarian took it gently and inspected the pages. The last quarter of the book was the most affected part; the small cluster of pages were dimpled. The print was still legible.

"—hmm, there's no tearing, and the ink is alright. I don't think I'll need to buy a replacement."

"Are you sure? I have no problem paying, it was my fault."

"Had this book for almost eight years and it's only been rented twice," Quinton said with a crooked smile. "It won't be missed. Thank you for coming in though."

Madelaine hesitated. Her eyebrows pinched into a frown. "...Can I at least make a donation or something? I feel bad just not paying."

Quinton simply laughed, "You're a sweet girl, Miss Swan. I won't stop you from making a donation, but your patronage is payment enough."

❖

With half an hour before her first class and money in her pocket, Madelaine headed to the nearest cafe. She didn't grab anything at home and her stomach was starting to rumble.

As she drank hot chocolate, sitting with her back to the heater, Madelaine's head ached suddenly; like a fist rapped against her skull. The feeling echoed. She clenched her fists and waited for the pain to numb itself, allowing her mind to think again.

She grumbled under her breath and fetched one of the painkillers she now kept in her bag. Distantly, she knew it was against school policy to carry painkillers, but she doubted the school nurse would give them to her daily. Not without a doctor's permission, at least.

The thudding floated away, until a quiet pulse remained. She closed her eyes and rested. She held the drink in her hands, leaving her fingers as blissfully warm as her back.

Minutes passed slowly—the coffee machine and customers ordering at the counter was all Madelaine could hear—until an ambulance drove by, sirens slashing through the still streets.

Madelaine fidgeted as she focused on the sound. No doubt her father would be called onto the scene. She took a deep drink, savouring the feel of heated ceramic against her lips and closed her eyes again.

The sirens faded but the ache remained.

❖

With breakfast finished and her first class looming, Madelaine made her way to school. One of the benefits of living in a small town was the familiarity. No matter how far away her mind was, it was impossible to get lost.

It was easy:  _walk south, turn left, turn right, walk south, destination reached._ Her time in cities was spent staring up at the towering buildings and wondering when they would consume her. It was nauseating.

 _At least cities have well stocked libraries,_  Madelaine could almost hear Bella saying.

When she got to the gates of school, taking the shrouded path that led to Mrs Cope's office, Madelaine glanced over the neck high hedges. The car park was deserted. She paused, then checked her watch.

She still had ten minutes before class.

The curious little detective that resided in the back of her mind pushed her forward.

Mr Varner and Coach Clapp were sweeping the area around a blue van. Madelaine could barely see its shattered window. It was parked strangely, too, dropped right in front of another car. The path where Madelaine stood was elevated, a dozen stairs descending, but she could just see over the van. Nothing more than a glimpse of dull red.

She frowned, eyes scanning over the rest of the cars in the lot. Today must have been a day for skipping; there couldn't be more than thirty cars scattered around. She had never paid attention to makes and models, but she knew colours well. Dark blue, silver, and black. In Madelaine's memory, they blurred together, boring and unimportant. The Cullen's bright red sports car was an oddity, as was Bella's lumbering truck.

Her red truck.

The blue van.

The peek of faded red.

The eerily empty lot.

The wail of sirens headed south.

Madelaine dropped her books for the second time in as many days.

❖

"Madelaine!" An unfamiliar voice called. The approaching footsteps were heavy and fast. The voice was breathy, "There you are!"

"Where's Bella?" Madelaine asked, attention locked on the blue van.

"At the hospital. They left like, five minutes ago." Madelaine dragged her eyes over. It was Eric. She recognised him from Bella's lunch table. His face was washed with worry, but he gave her a tentative smile.

"Tyler crashed into Bella's truck. Bella hit her head, but I'm pretty sure it's not serious. She was awake and everything. Only a tiny bit of blood! Tyler's worse, but then he hit her so maybe it's karma. Oh man—that's awful to say. Sorry."

Madelaine seemed incapable of looking away. With her heartbeat rushing against her ears, she could do nothing but stare and listen.

"It was definitely an accident; it's the ice, you know. But they'll be fine. Edward Cullen was there too. I didn't see it, but that's what everyone else is saying. Angela went to the hospital. Honestly, a lot of people did. I should have, this'll be a good story. But uh..."

Madelaine didn't often find comfort in other people's ramblings, but Eric's chatter was soothing. He bent down to pick up Madelaine's lost armful of books.

"Chief Swan was here. He went to the hospital. He was real worried, so I told him I'd bring you to the hospital. If you want to go, obviously..." His dark eyes became concerned. "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine."

She didn't feel fine. The headache she'd chased away was back; settling at the base of her skull. Her fingers were shaking and she felt like her mind was lagging ten feet behind her body.

"Do you want to sit down?"

Eric placed a hand on Madelaine's arm, just above her elbow. It was a cautious action; as if he was ready to catch her. Suddenly, Madelaine's mind and body snapped to their rightful position and she could feel again.

"Let's go."

As they walked to his car, Eric was a step behind Madelaine. His brow furrowed. He opened the door for her. He turned the heater up and the radio down.

The drive was quiet. Madelaine didn't know how to feel about it. Her ears were ringing.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic to pass 10k words. Yay!
> 
> Thanks for reading! All comments, kudos and bookmarks are greatly appreciated!


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